I AM
by Rawiyah
Summary: What's Eating Gilbert Grape FF.  Gilbert loved his brother more than anything, but after his father dies, Gilbert learns a whole new meaning of the word 'love'. WIP.
1. A Miracle

Summary: Gilbert loved his brother. More than anyone in the world… But when his father died, Gilbert had to take care of Arnie like his own son… and that revealed a whole new meaning of 'love'.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: A Miracle<strong>

I can't quite recall how old I was when Mama had Arnie… I think I was probably five, or six. It was just me and Amy then. I still remember when Mama was pregnant.

I still remember when she told us she was pregnant…

"You're what?" Dad yelled… Mama didn't say anything in return. He just stared at him, while me and Amy watched from our bedroom. He huffed loudly and began to pace back and forth for a real long time… It made us nervous, but still, Mama said nothing. "Bonnie, you know how goddamn hard it is to raise one kid? Now we're having… not one, but three! Three bastards!"

"Don't you dare talk about yer own children like that, Albert!" Mama yelled. We could hear the trembling in her voice… Mama was scared. Like we all were. Dad wasn't really one to get angry or upset or anything… We tried playing with him before. He wasn't really the family type of guy.

"That's what they are, Bonnie! Bastards! You know goddamn well that we couldn't afford no weddin'."

That was always the speech of the night… and Dad always made it clear that he and Mama weren't married. It was a wonder how they stayed together for so long. Dad and Mama never really had much of a loving relationship of any sort… Just a tolerance for each other.

Then we heard Mama crying… I hated to hear Mama cry. But there wasn't much we could do. Amy led me back to my room and laid me to sleep then. There wasn't any other sound in the house other than Mama sobbing still…

When she was about, two or three weeks away from her due date… Mama fell down the steps. Or, so she said… I'll never know what really happened. But apparently, one night, Mama was going down the steps, probably to get some water, and she tripped… falling down the steps and landing on her stomach. At the time, it seemed like a genuine accident… I mean, Mama was crying, and we had to haul her off to the hospital. But looking back, I realized that it could've been anything. After all, Mama had been wanting an abortion for a while, since Dad made it clear that he didn't want anymore children. Who knows? Mama very well could've thrown herself off the steps, or she could've been pushed. Every time I think about it, it scares me… knowing what could have happened to her baby… To Arnie.

We rushed Mama to the hospital, and the whole way, Dad kept pestering her saying stuff like, "You clumsy ass woman. Can't even walk down the steps right… and even after having two babies already!" But Mama didn't say anything. I don't know… she was probably in too much pain to say anything.

It was the next morning, when the doctors came to us and said that Mama had given birth to a baby boy. He was almost premature by a month, weighed only two and a half pounds, and had a strange face.

"What's the matter with his face, Mama…?" I remember asking. Mama told me to ignore his face. She told me that it'd get better as he got older. I didn't know what to think of Arnold Grape. Hell, he was just a baby… small, funny looking, and he smelled weird too. Dad didn't say much when Arnie was born… He just sat by and watched, as though he were in another room, looking in at us through glass.

When it came time to take Arnie home, the doctors kept telling us that Arnie won't live to be ten years old. I asked Mama why…

"Why are they saying Arnie won't live to be ten?"

"Gilbert…" Mama would say, just before taking in a long, deep breath as she mentally prepared herself to come with the right words to say, "They're just sayin' that because they ain't seen no miracles yet."

"Miracles, Mama?"

"Yes, Gilbert. Arnie is a miracle."

She never stopped calling him that either. She always told him, 'sunshine, you're a miracle'. We all knew it, and I'm surprised Mama didn't just call him, 'miracle' instead of 'sunshine'. Arnie became Mama's favorite right away… the only child in the family with sandy blond hair. Though, he couldn't even babble by the time he turned two… Mama still loved him the most. We could all tell. Dad never said much about it... and Dad wanted for Arnie to not live much longer. Dad hated knowing that Arnie wasn't 'normal' like everyone else. Yet still, he never said anything about it, though he continued to yell at Mama for it.

I remember looking into Arnie's crib and hearing him cry softly and whine. I'd hold out my finger for him, and he'd grab onto it, clinging tightly for dear life.

"Don't be scared, Buddy…" I whispered to him. "I'm here. I am."

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><p>Author's Notes:<p>

I kind of did this a while back, and I'm just recently revisiting it. There's not much information in WEGG to go off from.

I had to do crazy amounts of math to figure out an estimate of each child's age by the time their father died ... It wasn't hard, but I didn't want to do it.

Gah. Yeah. It's been a long day.

R & R. Thanks!


	2. Sunshine

Summary: Gilbert loved his brother. More than anyone in the world… But when his father died, Gilbert had to take care of Arnie like his own son… and that revealed a whole new meaning of 'love'.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Sunshine<strong>

Arnie slept with me in my room when I was little. Mama would always come into my room at night to check on him, to make sure that he was breathing and to check that he wasn't too hot or too cold. That Arnie was just right…

Some nights, Arnie's crying would keep me awake at night, and I'd sit and wait for Mama to come into the room and rock him, or feed him, do whatever it was that she did to make him stop… But this one time, Mama did not come into the room. Arnie lay in his crib crying his eyes out, and no one came for him.

I remember sliding out of bed and poking at him through the bars. Arnie still, did not stop crying. I tried to think of what Mama would do… Arnie was three years old, and normally, I would talk to him. But Arnie, he couldn't understand anything that I was saying… I tried to think about it again, what Mama would do… So, I sang.

I can't say I sang very well, but I sang. I sang.

"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, Sailing on high, come down to baby from out of the sky... Baby deer, baby deer, down far below… I hear you calling, I hear you calling. I hear you calling, but I cannot go."

… a lullaby that Mama used to sing to me and to my sister when we were little. I remember seeing Arnie's face scrunch up real tight, and his tears stopped… and ever since then, I would hum a soft song, or sing a little, and it calmed Arnie.

I still didn't know what happened to Mama, as all we could hear from our room was Mama and Dad yelling at each other. Thumps, like someone falling, or stomping their foot on the ground. It was a rough night for everyone, as not one of us got any sleep.

Arnie lived to be ten years old.

It was a few weeks later, that Mama revealed to us that she was pregnant again. All hell broke loose. As expected, Dad grew so upset that he beat her… He was beating Mama and we could hear her crying. Amy held me back, though, and she told me not to get involved… I hated to hear Mama cry like that, though. I hated it so much.

It was always a dreadfully long, brutal beating. I don't know how long it lasted… maybe about a week. He'd just, blow up… like, some sort of spontaneous human combustion and he'd yell and scream and kick at Mama every day… Depending on the day, he'd beat Mama more than once, and he left big, black bruises in ugly splotches all over her body. Now, I wasn't an expert in pregnancy or anything… but after Arnie was born, I had assumed that Mama should avoid getting hurt while she was pregnant. I didn't want another sibling to be like Arnie.

After he'd finished beating Mama… he'd just get up and go watch TV and smoke. That was all he ever done… Ever since I was born, he'd stopped working full time at the market. He'd just sit on his couch and smoke his cigarette.

In the morning, he'd get up and if his breakfast wasn't cooked right, he'd beat Mama… and he'd yell at her. In the afternoon, if the house repairs needed work, he'd cuss at Mama and beat her. Then, at night, if Mama was too tired to move, and she didn't pick up the dishes, or move the tables… Dad would beat her. Same story every day…

It lasted for so long… too long. I remember too many nights where me and Arnie would fall asleep to the sound of Mama crying. It all changed, though… real quickly too. I don't really remember what gotten into Dad, but suddenly, he came to us and said,

"Children… I'm going to marry your mother."

What a shock, right? Earlier that week, though, Dad was in the market, stocking cans while Amy helped and I kept a watchful eye on Arnie. Mama was at home resting, as the doctors told her she is to be on bed rest for a while. The bells rang that signaled a customer had come through the door… and this was a new customer. A preacher, or priest of some sort. He had this nice outfit on, like he had just bought it that day, and he had a large, Ronald Reagan smile that would make anyone giggle at the sight of it. He was balding, and his thin, silvery hair whisps to and fro in the wind as he closed the door behind him…

Dad was in a trance, and Amy and I looked at him… noticing how he listened to the clergy man with such undivided attention. The man wasn't even speaking directly to him… He was just talking with the cashier, you know? Small talk like,

"The apocalypse is coming very soon… best I try to save everyone that I can." I saw how frightened Dad looked… that clergy man might as well have said, 'hey world! The apocalypse is tomorrow! If you're sinning, stop!'

But, true to his word, they married in Mama's third trimester of pregnancy. The baby, Ellen, came out just fine. Unharmed and healthy. Which, we were all very thankful for… especially after Mama has been beaten so.

And so it was. Our Mama, Bonnie, became Mrs. Bonnie Grape. We were officially, now, the Grape family. Our portrait was taken, and we all smiled happily as we watched Dad set up the frame on top of the mantel. I don't know about everyone else, but I was sure happy to have two official parents now. I knew they would stay forever now, as a couple. I felt proud to know that we'd have both a Mama and a Dad…

Yet… as the days went on, I couldn't help but notice that Mama's feelings didn't improve. It was if marriage to her was just signing off a paper and making their relationship official. Dad didn't speak to Mama… and Mama never spoke to him. There'd be days where Dad was out working, long shifts, and Mama would simply walk around the kitchen and complain… Complain about the house. Complain about the marriage, complain about us… Then, she'd complain about Dad. Telling us,

"… I almost wish I had never married that man. He don't spend no time with me… Always busy at that job he has. The house needs fixin', and he never got the time to fix it. Amy needs lunch money, and he never got the money to pay her…" And Mama would complain. "He's always hittin' on me. I ain't never done anythin' to harm that man… Why is he always hittin' on me?"

And none of us could answer Mama.

"Gilbert…" She whined softly, "Aren't you listening to me, boy?"

I felt sick, but I responded the best way I could. "I am."

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><p>Author's Notes:<p>

I don't know if you guys remember this really old lullaby, but the song that Gilbert sang to Arnie is a real song, and wasn't written by me.

The song is called, "Lady Moon" and it's a very old, old lullaby that I don't know if anyone even sings anymore. My mom used to sing it to me when I was a kid. The whole song went like this,

_"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, Sailing on high,_

_Come down to baby from out of the sky,_

_Baby Deer, Baby Deer, down far below,_

_I hear you calling, I hear you calling, I hear you calling,_

_Yet I cannot go._

_Lady Moon, Sending you..._

_Soft, shining rays,_

_'Who loves the baby?' the moonlight says,_

_In her house, dark and blue, There she must stay,_

_Kindly she'll watch you, Kindly she'll watch you, kindly she'll watch you,_

_'Till morn comes your way."_

I apologize for not giving the writer credit... but as I said, the song is so ridiculuously old, I think it's only been passed down through oral tradition, so... alas, I cannot find the original writer. ):

I always hated formatting. This story isn't Beta'd so if there are any grammar, or spelling mistakes, they are all mine.

And please let me know if you come across any. It'd be very helpful for me! Thanks.

R & R.


	3. Light in the Kitchen

Summary: Gilbert loved his brother. More than anyone in the world… But when his father died, Gilbert had to take care of Arnie like his own son… and that revealed a whole new meaning of 'love'.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Light in the Kitchen<strong>

Then, there came the time where Mama's marriage worsened. So much that they officially stopped talking to each other for good. Dad didn't speak to us, and we stopped speaking to him… He'd come downstairs for breakfast, lunch and dinner… and he wouldn't say anything to us. He'd just sit there, sipping his coffee and reading his paper. It was if, we weren't even there… and my vision of us as a perfect family was almost shattered instantly.

I was sixteen. My birthday was short-lived… and the entire time, I just kept playing with Arnie, who kept tripping over things and drooling. I fed him his piece of cake, and I wiped up the saliva from his lips and neck. My party wasn't crowded or anything… in fact, it was only Amy, Arnie, Ellen and Mama there… Dad? He was off somewhere… Hell, I don't even know where. He didn't care about my birthday, and I didn't care about him. He was just there as an accessory now. To make my family complete, you know? The official piece to the puzzle… but though, he was physically there, I never really felt like he was much of a 'Dad'.

My party was over, and that night Amy brought Ellen to bed, and I helped Arnie into bed. I patted his forehead and kissed his cheek, like Mama used to do to me. I knew Arnie liked that before he went to sleep each night… I don't think Arnie can _sleep_ without it. As I was about to lay myself down to sleep, I stopped and heard Dad moving about… I heard the door creak open as he must've gotten home just then. Then, I heard his feet dragging, heaviness of his footsteps. There was a soft, gentle sigh… Like something sorrowful. I don't know why I hated him. I guess I hated how he beat Mama, or how he missed my birthday party to go get drunk and roll around in the cornfield. Maybe I hated how he hated Arnie, simply for having a developmental problem… or maybe how he hated raising children?

I don't know why I hated him… but when I heard those footsteps slowly descending down the steps, I just turned on my side in my bed, and threw the pillow over my head. Tuning him out completely. Now that I look back at it, I feel bad that I slept very well that night…

"Did anyone hear Albert come in last night?" Mama asked us as we sat at the breakfast table. This would be the first day that Dad didn't come down to eat with us… and it didn't matter if he never spoke to us, his company was always noticed. It felt weird, to sit and eat without him being there. But Mama was genuinely worried. "Anyone?" She repeated.

I didn't say anything about hearing Dad come in last night. I could've sworn that I heard him go into the basement, but I didn't say anything. I wanted Mama happy… and I knew that she wouldn't be happy once she and Dad got back together. I made sure to keep Mama away from Dad as often as I could… They weren't meant for each other anyway.

Mama just turned around, continued cooking, but this time… she wasn't complaining. It was more of, her worrying… about Dad. It was the same thing every few minutes, "I could've sworn I saw Albert leave here last night… He always comes home for breakfast."

During the night, when Arnie would get scared, he'd come sleep in my bed, and he'd ask me questions about Mama and Dad…

"Gilbert?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Dad is missing?"

"Yeah… he's missing."

"Mama can't find him?"

"No… she doesn't know where he is…" I took in a breath, "No one does."

"Oh…"

I wasn't sure either, but my anger for him grew… especially now that I had assumed he was cheating on Mama. Though, he always seemed like the one-woman-man, I didn't trust him very well, and it only seemed logical for him to be cheating on Mama. Hell, maybe he found another woman to beat up?

"I think Dad is cheating on Mama…" I really didn't mean to say that to Arnie, knowing he was an open book, he'd remember everything, and anything that I say.

"Cheating?"

Well, I saw no point in stopping there… I already said it, might as well go all the way from here,

"Yeah." I said. "He probably went out and found another woman to have sex with… He's probably having a hell of a time."

Arnie didn't comprehend, and god knows how glad I am for that.

––––

Arnie was the first to find Dad… I was supposed to be watching him, and Arnie somehow slipped away into the basement. He came running back up to me and he was fidgety.

"I saw Dad!" Arnie said. I don't know why… but I shushed him, told him that he didn't see Dad, that he was just imagining things. "No, Gilbert. I saw Dad! I saw Dad! I saw Dad!" And quick like a bunny, Arnie disappeared and bolted to the basement, expecting me to follow… I did.

The sight was traumatizing. Truly. To see him, hanging there… a rope tightly snugging his neck, rubbing against his skin causing it to bleed and pulling so tightly that his eyes bulged out of his skull and his tongue hang loosely from his mouth. He was pale, and there was a horrible stench in there, as though he'd probably been hanging there for days. I couldn't breathe… I couldn't think. Yet, at the same time, I couldn't draw my eyes away from it…

"… Mama!" I called. Arnie and I ran from that basement with all hast, neither of us wanting to see Dad's dead body again. "Mama!"

"What, Gilbert?"

"Mama… We found Dad."

I can't ever forget Mama's face when she saw Dad hanging there from the basement ceiling. I couldn't tell if Mama was happy or upset, but her jaw dropped, as though she were about to scream. Except, she quickly covered her mouth with hands and ran to the closest bathroom… I was so pained with the expressions of my siblings, that I could just barely hear Mama throwing up in the bathroom.

We buried Dad about three days after Arnie found him hanging there… the funeral was short, and the priest had very little to say about my Dad. His speech was generic, and probably could've applied to any one of the guests' funerals. It could have applied to anyone. Mama looked so beautiful, today… I didn't think it'd be the last time I thought Mama was beautiful. She wore this long, lovely black velvet dress with her hair tied up in a slick bun. She wore make-up, for the first time since she gave birth to me. This was my first time seeing her in make-up, and god knows… it did wonders for her.

There were no visible wrinkles on Mama's face anymore, and her pale skin was now a little vibrant with color, despite it being counterfeit. Her lips were painted a bright, lively red, even though she, herself was so sad… so broken. I leaned against Mama's shoulder and rubbed her arm gently, and I could hear her sniffling softly, and mumbling to herself…

"I'll never love anyone else again…"

I couldn't respond to Mama. I only pretended that I didn't hear what Mama said. Her tears made her make-up trail down her face and reached out to offer my handkerchief to her. She refused it. On the other side of Mama, Amy was holding her arm, and she whispered to Mama… I couldn't hear it, what, with all the fake tears and wailing going on. But Mama's tears were real… and Mama's pain was genuine. I still have no idea what Amy said to her, but after Amy whispered in Mama's ear, Mama let loose a long, excruciating scream of agony that would have killed any bird flying by.

I tried to calm her down, tried rubbing her arms and telling her that I love her, that I didn't want to see her crying… but my words were unheard, and Mama couldn't stop herself from crying even harder.

Amy and I took Mama home before they buried Dad… I didn't think Mama would be able to handle it, and I didn't want her to be so controlled by her emotions that she'd go off and embarrass herself at her own husband's funeral. I could only imagine what Dad would say if Mama wasn't acting accordingly. I drove in silence, Mama sat by my side, just sobbing still… Occasionally, I'd reach out a hand and caress Mama's … but she was unresponsive to my touch.

When we got home, everyone went right to bed, even though it was still daylight outside. We were all emotionally tired… and Mama suffered the worst.

That night, as I was slowly tip-toeing down the stairs for a glass of water, I noticed a light was on in the kitchen… not only was that light unusual, but I heard muffled sounds and rustling. My initial thought… A burglar! How dare someone try to break into our house and steal our food… What? Did they think that just because Dad was gone that we wouldn't be able to defend ourselves anymore? I picked up the nearest thing I could find that resembled a weapon… the broom…

Carefully, I crept towards the light in the kitchen. But what I found, almost did not shock me… The light was, as I assumed earlier, coming from the refrigerator… but the sounds were not from a burglar. It was Mama, and she was sitting at the table, eating directly from our bag of sliced bread. She was crying still... as though her eyes hadn't stopped leaking since the funeral.

"Mama…" I called softly, lowering the brush and gently leaning it against the kitchen door. Mama looked up at me like a deer caught in headlights, her cheeks were puffed out from the bread in her mouth and she rushed to chew and swallow it down.

"Gilbert…" She croaked. I moved to sit beside her… Mama was crying still, and she rubbed her face against my shoulder. I felt so hurt seeing Mama like that. So… weak. I hugged her tightly with one arm around her shoulders… and my other free hand hovered over hers and lightly brushed against it. Mama cried again, and she kept mumbling… "I'll never love another man… I'll never love another."

"Shh…" I whispered to Mama, and out of instinct, I rocked her side to side where we sat.

"Gilbert…" Oh, her voice shook terribly from all that crying she did.

"Yeah, Mama?"

"Hold me… please."

"I am, Mama. I am."

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><p>Author's Notes:<p>

This chapter was my favorite to write.

There wasn't much to it.

Anyway, yeah.

R & R.

It'd make me so happy.


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